[lyrics based on snippets (1 and 2); please check back once the song has been released]
Bitch, I'm tryna spoil you
I need less of them, and need more of you
Like there was four of you
In the bedroom tryna oil you
Turn that shit up, nothin' less
Swapped out the coupe for the jet
New money gettin' carressed
Necklace ain't nothin' but baguettes
It's like I mastered it
I'm a star but ain't no asterisk
Saw my name up on the city lights, man, I plastered it
I hit every single time, don't miss, it's way too accurate
I work 'til all my shit immaculate
Paper, I've been stackin' it
I'm like a mag-a-net
Drag race the coupe [?]
She got a attitude problem